


late nights

by deadbeatfreak99



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Secret Crush, they're two dorks, wonpil has nightmares, yoon dowoon is whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-25 23:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20920184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbeatfreak99/pseuds/deadbeatfreak99
Summary: ❝Let's go on an adventure! Isn't summer vacation meant for these kinds of things?❞《In which Dowoon is head-over-heels for his best friend who can't sleep.》





	1. | prologue |

**Author's Note:**

> originally completed on wattpad 26/01/19
> 
> spotify playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/user/ltmv1akncmgjlstc4y6lcnhit/playlist/5ImuOcWZuNB0EEuRyOonb9?si=DEWVTH8kR9WB6o9oqbvpBA

Stuffy and irritatingly hot, the mid-June air hung heavily in Dowoon's quaint room. It was his first night of summer vacation and his plans consisted of nothing more than sleeping until late afternoon of the following day － and yet there he was, cotton sheet kicked off to the floor and skin layered with a sheen of sweat, awake at almost three in the morning, with the bliss of sleep nowhere near in sight.

Highschool had been rough, what with all the tests he had managed to scrape by with a pass mark and homework which he left stacked on his desk until the last moment, simply because he had no will to pick up his books until it was absolutely necessary.

Dowoon merely wanted some rest then, however, nothing more, but he wondered if maybe even asking for that was too much.

He flipped over on his side, eyes squeezed shut enough that his face scrunched up as he attempted to force himself into sleep, ignoring the humid and excessively warm weather that made it almost laborious to breathe. Despite his honest attempts though, frustrated and tired, he let out a huff not more than a few seconds later, returning to laying on his back and glaring up at the ceiling above him as if it were its looming presence that kept him awake.

His mind was just about to wander when the vibration of his phone upon his bedside table cut through the dense silence which seemingly blanketed the entire neighbourhood.

The name of his best friend appeared at the top of the notification, and aside from the faint giddiness he felt at seeing who the message was from, he also felt a sense of worry blossom within his chest.

_Hey, you up??? _

** _[02:54]_ **

The first message read. He didn't hesitate an instant before his thumbs thumped across the keyboard, his own reply popping into the chat being immediately marked as read by the other.

_y_ _eah what's going on?_

** _[02:54]_ **

  
Dowoon strongly blinked a handful of times, stinging eyes unused to the brightness of a lit screen in his heavily shadowed room.

_Can't sleep bro_

** _[02:54]_ **

_Wanna hang out?_

** _[02:55]_ **

His gaze flickered to the upper-right corner of the phone and, upon seeing the time, his eyebrows drew together, creasing the bumpy skin between them. Dowoon was well-aware that Wonpil tended to spend nights mostly active, considering he would awake some mornings to find that he had been spammed throughout the night with memes, puns, and the silliest of questions that could only occur to a sleep deprived mind, but the latter had never asked to actually meet until then.

The thought immediately set off a pondering in his head of how he would sneak out of the house without his parents hearing him, and plans momentarily began to formulate against his own volition.

If Wonpil wanted to hang out at three in the morning, Dowoon was happy to oblige, even if it involved him having to latch onto the tree outside his bedroom window and attempt climbing down.

_s_ _ure. just give me a second _

_ **[02:56]** _

  
_Lol okay_

** _[02:56]_ **

_Im waiting under your room's window_

** _[02:58]_ **

And with tired muscles and a hazy brain, Dowoon tumbled off of the mattress and dressed himself as quickly as he could without losing his balance, denim three-quarters hanging loosely on his hips and a crumpled T-shirt over his chest.

Shoes on and hair lazily arranged, he slid open his window and peered down, finding Wonpil waving up at him with a luminous smile only he was capable of bearing, and his heart jolted excitedly in its cage.

If Dowoon didn't risk breaking a leg to see the brunet in the middle of the night, could he really call the other his childhood best friend and long-time crush? 


	2. [02 : 56]

Having a crush on your childhood best friend is never easy. Having a crush on your childhood best friend who's of the same gender as you and is apparently as straight as a pole, is even harder.

Dowoon frequently found himself drifting off, thinking to a few years back when they were still in seventh grade, knees full of scrapes from tripping and worries solely related to school. They were blissful times for the most part, then that he considered everything.

He'd marked that year as the one during which he began to have feelings for Kim Wonpil.

It started with silly things like wanting to always sit next to his friend during recess and lessons, and getting upset whenever someone else would take his place, then it grew to him constantly sticking to Wonpil's side, making sure to be the first to give him that pencil he often needed and the first to pick up that rubber he often dropped.

From there on he began to get possessive and protective of the other, to the point that if Wonpil had forgotten his homework and the teacher scolded him, Dowoon would stand from his seat and defend him, much like a lawyer would for a criminal he proclaimed innocent.

When such memories arose in his mind, he wished to bash his head against a wall until they either left or were permanently cancelled; two options of which he'd much prefer the latter.

Fortunately for him, with time he got a better grip of himself and didn't do such embarrassing things, but in no way did his situation improve. By grade nine he would look at Wonpil and his gaze would stick, warmth creeping up his neck and settling upon his plump cheeks, admiration glittering in his irises which stared. It was around that year that he came to terms with the fact that what he felt for his best friend wasn't exactly what all best friends feel for each other.

That's when the situation got increasingly tough.

Dowoon became hyperaware of his behaviour around Wonpil, careful to not let his contained emotions show until that became the very reason they had a falling out, purely because the latter thought Dowoon didn't want to be around him anymore.

It was a stressful period of his life he truly didn't want to relive, and so, from then on he kept cautious so as to not overdo his self-control to the extreme that he would become frigid around the other.

And that was how he had been living until then, leading him up to the ever-so riveting years of teenhood spent pining for someone he couldn't have. He swore to himself that he'd rather take his feelings to the grave than risk his friendship with Wonpil; the so-heterosexual-Wonpil he foolishly fell in love with.

His feet thudded onto the neatly trimmed grass, relief spreading through him as he finally stood on firm land, and he bent over to clutch his knees, heaving a deep breath.

"Woonie, I didn't think you could climb down a tree so quickly!"

Frankly, neither did he.

"Yeah, I guess," He huffed, amused, hands setting themselves on his waist, "I felt really cool just now, honestly."

Wonpil chuckled, tossing an arm over the taller's shoulders and beginning to guide them off to the sidewalk.

"Thanks for risking your life for me then, buddy."

"Couldn't let you wander about on your own at three a.m, you damn crackhead."

The boy laughed harder, proceeding to slip his touch away and tuck his hands into the pockets of the baggy, grey hoodie which swamped his lanky frame and hung from his hunched shoulders.

"Anyway, I was thinking about going to that diner near-by that stays open all night," He spoke up after a beat of silence was shared between them, tiredness still lingering in Dowoon's skull and preventing him from formulating any type of conversation topic, "How about it?"

Dowoon shrugged, focusing his eyes straight ahead because he _knew_ Wonpil was looking at him with his happy face and he _knew _that his drowsy brain would let his eyes linger.

"Sounds good," He dryly supplied the question with.

It had been enough nonetheless for his best friend beamed and Dowoon could see the grin from his peripheral vision, a sight that made his own lips curl, content at having pleased him.

When they got to the diner, the clock had already ticked to ten past three, yet somehow, with the magic that only Wonpil possessed, all of Dowoon's energy had been recharged and despite his languidly fading headache, he fooled around with him like the two always did.

No topic in particular was discussed, but they never stopped talking, both sipping on milkshakes and Wonpil munching on some biscuits, at a table beside the window in the white-light lit establishment.

He could be sleeping, getting the rest he craved so hungrily before, but Dowoon wouldn't exchange his night with Wonpil even for that. No, he'd spend a hundred sleepless nights if it meant he could spend them with the boy he secretly loved.

Thus, by the time he got back home at almost seven a.m, eyes stinging and feet sore from walking, he flopped down onto his bed and smiled, hearing Wonpil's laughter playing on a loop in his head until he drifted into a profound sleep.


	3. [03 : 04]

Dowoon didn't know that he should have prepared himself for the fact that having to sneak out of his house at ungodly hours of the early morning would become a common occurance.

His day had been uneventful, mumbling to anyone － read as_ his mother_ － who told him to get up and not waste his time on the sofa, that he needed at least a week to let his brain rot and his muscles to go lax.

He was utterly drained seeing as how he hadn't slept much the night prior and consequently woke up in the late afternoon, as he had planned to do either way; but he wasn't able to gain those precious, extra hours of rest so it resulted in being quite useless.

Not that he minded, certainly not. Dowoon wasn't complaining. He would do anything for his best friend. The impending fact that he started his summer job the following day however, acted as a menacing shadow over his time of relaxation and dread filled him completely.

Yes, he did want to earn his own money, but couldn't he do that after a longer break? Apparently not, and to worsen the issue, it seemed he would have to go to his first day of work with a scant number of hours of sleep.

At about the same time as the previous night, when the air was hard to breathe and the heat was near unbearable, his phone lit with a message from Wonpil, and his hand flew to pick it up not a second later.

_Bro i can't sleep again_

** _[02:58]_ **

_How about you?_

_ **[02:58]** _

Dowoon bit his bottom lip, knowing where the conversation was going and knowing that he would go against his better judgement.

_c_ _an't sleep either ):_

_ **[02:59] ** _

He lied, a hand tensely itching at his eyebrows.

_Awesome! Want to meeet up like yesterday?? _

** _[02:59]_ **

  
_**meet _

_ **[03:00]** _

_y_ _eah definitely_

_ **[03:00] ** _

_Thanks woonie _

_ **[03:00]** _

  
_I'll be outside your window _   
_in a couple minutes_

** _[03:02]_ **

_k_ _ dude_

** _[03:02]_ **

He sighed, frustrated with himself as he dragged his palm down his face. Why was he such an absolute idiot? No, alright, he could totally go out and still get enough sleep for him to be functional in the morning. He had to leave his home by around eight the next day, and should he return from being with Wonpil at the same hour as last time, he would be able to have a wonderful, almost complete hour of sleep. 

  
Dowoon could do this.

Getting dressed in clothes which he had left scattered about from a short number of days before, he ran his fingers through his dark hair and waited by the window for signs of his friend.

Only a few minutes passed and there came Wonpil, bright and eager eyes looking up at Dowoon, a hand waving high in the air. He waited on the patch of grass below whilst the younger climbed down the tree's branches and along its trunk, dusting off his palms once done.

"This is like, only your second time going down it and you've already gotten used to doing it smoothly," Wonpil whined, lips pursed as a crease formed between his brows, "Not fair."

Dowoon grinned, happy that his new-found skill was recognised by his best friend but hiding it with glancing up at his open bedroom, head falling backwards and hair flopping with it.

"Maybe I was Tarzan in my past life or something."

The brunet huffed out a grunt, turning to stride onto the sidewalk as he did the night prior.

"Probably," He airily agreed, a skip in his step. "Ah," Wonpil looked over his shoulder at Dowoon who had begun to follow him and grinned, mirth in his gaze, "I have an idea of where we can go tonight and it'll be fun!"

The road was quiet, silent enough that the sounds of their steps felt far too loud and sharp, and Dowoon briefly worried that Wonpil's excited talking would disturb those who were sleeping.

After checking around them, his eyes settled on his friend who had slowed his pace to meet his and nodded.

"We can go wherever," Dowoon replied nonchalantly, a smile on his mouth which didn't want to leave.

And that was how he found himself at the town's abandoned train tracks at half three in the morning, with only the soft glow of the moon to guide them in the thick black that came with the night's embrace.

The breeze wasn't as warm as that of before and he rather regretted not wearing a jacket over such a thin, short-sleeved top, but at least Wonpil had thought of doing so and he wasn't a fellow victim to the feeble chill.

The pair walked slowly along the rusted metal tracks, shoes crunching the gravel and soil beneath them, and whilst Dowoon stared ahead and watched his step, Wonpil continued forward with his chin in the air, irises drinking in the sight of the shimmering stars above.

"It's a really nice night, huh?"

Dowoon hummed, eyes drifting up to fall upon Wonpil's profile, hollow cheeks shadowed by the overhead light.

He couldn't help staring, for just as Wonpil was entranced by the universe shining upon the tiny world and tiny them, Dowoon was enraptured by his beauty, incapable of looking away.

It was a fondness with a tint of longing that burrowed in his chest, and made him want to grab the other's hand so that they could truly walk together.

Wonpil lowered his head and turned it to him, a dreamy smile on his lips which magnetically pulled Dowoon's gaze to them until he fought to liberate it and met the shorter's own instead.

"Wanna laze about for a bit? My neck is starting to hurt."

Dowoon nodded, again not finding it in him to ever say no to a request of his friend.

Discovering a spot where the ground wasn't too littered or bumpy was an arduous task, but when they eventually came across it, simply further along the tracks, they lay down and rested the crown of their heads against the cool metal.

It was quiet for a while, with neither really saying a word or making a single noise except for those of their even breaths which kept company to one another.

"Everything is so small when compared to the universe, isn't it?" Came Wonpil's hushed words once Dowoon could begin to feel the lull of sleep pulling at his mind, "Don't you feel like everything is just irrelevant, looking at the stars?"

Dowoon shifted his right leg and bent it so that his knee was up and his foot was pressing into the ground.

"We've always been irrelevant, Pil. All our problems and worries are worth nothing."

There came a pause, and Dowoon wasn't sure whether it was one of apprehension or not.

"You're right, Woonie."

Then Wonpil chuckled, happy and light as always.

"Now I feel incredibly unimportant."

Dowoon dropped his head to the left to face the other, heart constricting but his mouth smiling.

"You're extremely important. Aren't we made of stardust? Just as they're beautiful and magical, so are y－ we."

"Damn. . . You're being really poetic, bud," His thin lips curled into a lopsided smile, "Maybe you're right. Maybe the stars look at us the way we look at them."


	4. [03 : 34]

It was something a part of him had told him to expect, and sure enough, came, no matter how much later into the night it did. The phone he held above his face in anticipation blinked with a newly arrived message and Dowoon smiled, already sitting up in bed with the sheet sliding off of his chest.

_DUDE_

** _[03:21]_ **

_I AHVE AN IDEA_

_ **[03:21]** _

_LETS GOI TO THE PLAYFROUND _   
_WE USED TO PLAY AR WHEN _   
_WE WERE LITTEL_

_ **[03:21]** _

_i_ _'m going to ignore all your typos because_   
_i'm a good friend but sure_

_ **[03:22]** _

  
_You're the bestest best friend _   
_drummer boy_

_ **[03:22]** _

There it came, that incessant sting. His smile didn't fade but took on a semblance of sadness because, truly, he should be used to it by now, yet it still hurt and would probably continue to hurt, whenever he remembered that a good friend was all he was ever going to be.

If that was what he was limited to, Dowoon decided he'd do his darn utmost to be the greatest of friends Wonpil could ask for.

_y_ _ou bet your pancake ass i am_

_ **[03:23]** _

  
_Oof you know I'm sensitive _   
_about my butt dude_

** _[03:23]_ **

_That was a low blow_

** _[03:23]_ **

_b_ _ut somebody had to make it_

_**[03:23]**_

  
_))))): _

_ **[03:28]** _

_Anyway i'm heading out _   
_in a second_

** _[03:28]_ **

_Have your emo self ready and _   
_waiting by the window my dear rapunzel_

** _[03:29]_ **

_ok jackass_

** _[03:31]_ **

  
Tossing his phone upon the mattress, he dropped back onto the bed, head bouncing upon his pillow and arms strewn at his sides, face blank despite the fact that giddiness had begun overriding his festering disappointment.

It had been ages since they had gone to the playground and Dowoon missed it dearly. The place held a myriad of good memories of him with his best friend, because of course they went everywhere together since Dowoon refused to leave the other's side as children.

It didn't matter that they were nineteen and eighteen respectively, then, or that the time was 3:34 a.m, nor did it matter that the boy's eyes were droopy with sleep, because this was for Wonpil.

Getting ready in the blackness of his room was growing to be easier, and in a few minutes he was dressed and sliding open his window, peeking out to spot the approaching figure of his friend, further down the street.

He latched onto the tree and shimmied along it, landing with a muted thump in his yard and trudging towards the shorter, who was then jogging up to him.

"Morning!"

Dowoon's hand instantly flew up to cover Wonpil's mouth before he could shout again, palm being warmed by the latter's hot breaths and tickled by muffled laughter.

Raising a warning finger, he pointed it at his best friend and furrowed his brow, not speaking a word but hoping that his scolding was being clearly portrayed. Tentatively lifting his hand off of Wonpil's face, the other's grin was exposed and the panic of getting caught, which had found its way so quickly into Dowoon, simmered to nothing.

"Oops?"

He sighed, resignation urging his posture to slouch, and his eyes rolled in feigned exasperation.

"You're hyper, aren't you?"

"Fuck loads, man."

A chuckle left him and he shook his head, black bangs brushing against his eyelids which felt to be made of led, pleading him to let them close.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to babysit you while we're at the playground?"

Wonpil gave a shrug, hands in his pockets and smile childishly mischievous.

"Up to you! Now let's go, I really feel like going on the swings."

A hum left Dowoon and they began walking, still knowing the directions by heart as they used to go to the public park almost everyday as young teens.

"You'll push me on the swings though, right? You know I struggle with getting the bloody thing moving."

Dowoon's lips turned up at the edges and he looked to Wonpil who owlishly blinked at him in return.

" 'Course," he murmured fondly, "just like when were kids."


	5. [03 : 49]

The consistent creak of the old chains was eerie in the timidly lit playground, blue and green swing swaying back and forth, with Wonpil sitting in its seat and Dowoon softly pushing from behind.

The older's bony hands were loose around the metal on either side of his head, and his ruffled hair rose and fell as his body did, a delicate breeze accompanying the motion. His excess of energy had begun to disappitate and he was left with the remains of his euphoric state, tiredly smiling as the hands of his friend came into contact with his lower back and separated, on repeat.

"Don't you wish we could be kids again?"

Wonpil's thin legs dangled in the air as he let them sway however they wanted, and he briefly watched them go, curious.

The boy behind him snorted, and Wonpil's sights lifted to stare ahead once more.

"You never grew up though," Was Dowoon's teasing response, and the brunet attempted elbowing him.

"I'm a year older than you, prick. Take my question seriously."

Dowoon sighed and let his head tilt in thought, considering the possibility of turning back time to when they were little.

"Well?"

"I'm not sure. How about you?"

Shifting in his seat to glance over his shoulder, Wonpil checked his friend's expression to see whether he was taunting him, and then moved back, lifting his eyes to the tops of the houses which could be seen through the sparse trees.

"I would. Everything was a lot easier," He stated, affirming it all with a decisive nod, "Besides the fact that you were fucking hilarious when we were kids. Remember the time you got in trouble with the school because you wouldn't stop arguing with Miss Park about giving me a warning slip for not doing my homework? That was the funniest thing ever, I swear."

Ah, there it was, the feeling of wanting to crawl into a hole and hide for eternity.

A vibrant flush travelled along Dowoon's neck, setting aflame his ears and painting his full cheeks pink. Moving away from behind Wonpil, believing he had gathered enough momentum to no longer need his help, he went around and sat in the swing abreast him, using his feet to kick off into the air.

"I'm sorry for being a good friend."

His reply was snippy, which made Wonpil let out a peal of laughter in amusement, smile wide on his face as the warm sound danced in the cold air.

"What about that time in seventh grade when you shoved that girl off the seat next to mine because it was yours?"

Dowoon's head snapped to Wonpil, a glare in his eyes even if he was highly aware of the blush which adorned his pale skin. He could only hope that the weak lighting would suffice in concealing it.

"Did you bring this topic up _just_ so that you could poke fun at me?"

Waving off his assumption Wonpil scoffed, mumbling a quick, "As if," prior to continuing, "but I wonder sometimes, you know? I'm the older one and yet it's like our roles have always been reversed."

Dowoon lightly frowned, bafflement lacing his expression.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's always been you to protect me and help me or whatever. Like, right now, you could be sleeping instead of staying awake with my insomniac ass."

"Pil, I don't do anything I don't want to do. I've known about your nightmare problem for years now. Staying awake messaging you or staying awake with you outside doesn't change much for me. If it helps you, I'll do it."

He swallowed, finding it to be hard as his throat tightened and his tongue felt to be made of lead.

"If you need me, I'll be here for you."

Wonpil bobbed his head, a glimmer in his irises of an emotion Dowoon couldn't place, and then the former's gaze was on him, soft and somewhat profound, as if there were something hidden beneath.

"Same goes for you. I know I'm not exactly useful or talented in many ways, but I'll give it my all if you ever need my help."

His heartbeat grew exponentially faster as he held eye contact with his best friend, so close, with their swings swaying in tune with one another, as if timed to meet with each drop and lift.

"Oh gosh, like that time you got your foot stuck in the vending machine at the gas station and I stayed pulling at it for like, half an hour!"

Dowoon groaned, burying his face in one of his palms in the attempt of masking at least a fraction of his embarrassment.

He wanted to crawl into a hole again.


	6. [04 : 26]

Work had been gruelling and the lack of sleep he had been suffering only made it far worse. Dowoon didn't know what to do, but letting down Wonpil by not meeting up with him was definitely not an option on his list.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself awake until the message he suspected he'd get arrived, his eyelids fluttered shut and his hands turned limp, phone dropping to beside his head.

He didn't know for how long he had been asleep, but when a loud tapping resounded through his room, he jolted upright, hair a bird's nest and one eye more open than the other.

Whilst glancing around in the darkness, trying to see if anybody had entered, another sharp knock was heard and his head snapped to his shut window, startled.

Hurriedly checking his phone and grimacing when it quite literally seared his eyes, he saw at least fifteen new messages from Wonpil, a missed call, and that it was almost half four in the morning.

He grunted, shut it off, and dragged a hand down his face, forcing his eyelids to stay apart.

Another knock and Dowoon stumbled off his bed, tripping in his sheet and rushing to the window, prior to fumbling with its handle and sliding it open.

"Wo－" 

His call was cut short as a pebble soared past his head, only marginally missing his ear and dropping into his room.

"Holy shit. Sorry, dude!"

Dowoon sighed, foggy mind trying to decipher just what exactly was going on as he looked down at Wonpil, who was tossing the miniscule stones he must have collected, back to the ground.

"Was this the best form of communication you could think of?" 

"My apologies, good sir, next time I'll send you a note via pigeon instead."

A lazy grin was all that Wonpil offered with his reply and Dowoon shook his head, a hand struggling to untangle his unruly hair.

"You wanna hang out?" He drawled in question, giving up on making himself appear presentable and setting his forearms on the windowsill, dejectedly.

"If it's not too much of a problem."

Nodding, Dowoon pushed himself upright and flapped his right hand twice, his left rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, no worries. Give me a second."

"Thanks, Woonie."

Once he was clothed and down the tree, the taller looked to Wonpil, gaze briefly scanning over the latter until it came across the subtle quiver in his fingers, then rising to meet his smile which now came off as strained.

Something was wrong but Dowoon didn't mention it, unwilling to risk making the other uncomfortable.

"So, where do you want to go this time?"

"I was thinking the river. It's calming to watch it flow."

He hummed in agreement and then shuddered at the slight chill in the air, belatedly noting how, again, Wonpil was wise enough to cover himself with an old zip-up hoodie, whilst he only wore a T-shirt.

The narrow river which ran through the town was quite a fair distance to cover by walk, and so he hoped that the exercise would help him warm up, if anything.

Dowoon stole a furtive peek at the shorter who wordlessly stayed at his side, eyes distant and a sombre smile plastered across his lips on automatic. 

He hoped Wonpil was alright.


	7. [04 : 50]

It felt colder by the river, the continuous whisper of flowing water greeting them before it had even come into sight. Their surroundings were still cloaked in shadows, illuminated by the streetlights which lined the road that proceeded along the river, seperated by sloping land layered with fine grass.

The two went down it carefully, hardly able to see where their shoes stepped but knowing that they could easily slip if they didn't pay attention.

Not many words were shared between them throughout their long walk, and even as they took a seat on the riverbank, they didn't utter a syllable.

Dowoon considered these moments of silence that they had as something highly precious because words were often hard and futile, ruining a sensation or setting of tranquillity. He had come to understand that it wasn't with simply anyone that one could feel perfectly content not talking with, whilst together, and Wonpil was that special anyone for him.

They didn't need to voice how they felt or what they thought, they simply _knew_.

Eventually, Wonpil lay down on his back, hands cupping his head, and Dowoon mimicked him. There wasn't much space between the two and the younger felt his pulse quicken, thinking about how intimate and almost romantic it all could be; though perhaps it was his own illusion, the fluttering feeling in his stomach making him see the moment through the lenses of a fool in love.

And then he heard it, that shuddered inhale of the boy abreast him which instantly distracted him from his pleasant thoughts and reminded him of why they were there in the first place.

"We're meeting quite late today."

His words left him in a near whisper, hushed and raspy with sleep, and there came a pregnant pause during which Wonpil didn't dare move.

The latter didn't say anything in response to Dowoon's casual statement, and so they would have fallen into silence again had he not spoken up a second time.

"What's wrong, Pil?"

"Nothing. I'm － I'm just thinking."

"Really?"

They were both aware that Wonpil was clearly not being honest, but they also knew that he didn't have to be if he didn't feel like he could, in that moment.

Another set of seconds had passed with no answer, and Dowoon had decided to not push any further, when Wonpil finally spoke.

"I tried sleeping tonight. It didn't go well."

The younger let out a sound of understanding, staring up at the infinite sky yet not really focusing on it.

"I came over to yours after I woke up, that's why it's kind of late."

Wonpil's head turned, the movement making Dowoon do the same so that they met each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry for being such a hassle."

Sincere and apologetic, Wonpil's words carried a sense of abashment and sadness.

"You're really not, don't worry."

An inhale akin to a blade and then, "It was so violent."

The muscle in Dowoon's chest throbbed, a concoction of empathy and nervousness brewing within him and spurring his next action. It was after a moment of hesitation; Dowoon reached his hand out to hold Wonpil's, the ice of his skin clashing with the fire of the latter's, and when he saw no negative reaction, his pale fingers intertwined with slender ones, fastening their grip as if to give strength.

"It's fine, Wonpil. You'll be okay."

The older smiled, happiness washing over his expression as he too held tightly onto Dowoon's hand.

"I hope so, buddy."


	8. [02 : 32]

Wonpil's nightmares were a mystery to both him and Dowoon, the reason of their occurance unknown. Dowoon had spent hours on his mother's computer, attempting to find the cause and solution to his best friend's problem, back when he had first found out in eighth grade, yet it generally led to past traumas as the root of the issue.

Initially, Dowoon worried that Wonpil had kept a part of his past a secret and that a terrible event must have had left a psychological scar on him, but after confronting the latter and him swearing that nothing traumatic had ever happened, they hit a dead end.

Wonpil rarely recounted what his mind made him witness, but whenever he would, his lithe body would tremble and his eyes would flicker about to avoid Dowoon's, as if ashamed.

They terrified him, for he wasn't one to watch violent or horror themed films and shows, yet his nightmares were a mixture of both. Scenes of cannibalism and torture, being trapped and killed, chased and attacked, so realistic that Wonpil said he smelt the iron scent of blood when he awoke, and would often snap out of his nightmare to physically feel the pain which had been inflicted upon him, in the real world.

They terrified him because they were completely fabricated by his own mind, and it scared him to know that his mind could think of such things.

Dowoon couldn't understand what brought them on, and though they weren't extremely often, Wonpil had grown afraid of sleeping, more so at night.

It was something Dowoon desperately wished he could help resolve, but the rational side of him knew Wonpil needed professional help. He had told this to his best friend once and Wonpil agreed, almost eager to go and maybe, just maybe, liberate himself from nights of fear, and then he changed his opinion.

The first obstacle was that his parents weren't aware of his struggles with sleeping, and he definitely didn't want to concern them with that. Another was the fact that they may see him as a freak, a person with a decayed mind of ash grey faces and rotting limbs, dripping with blood and loaded with frightening images; he obviously didn't want that either. The third major block in the road was that it would cost his family money, and it wasn't that they were excessively tight on it, but Wonpil felt far too selfish to waste more than necassary on himself.

It was a complex twist and turn of problems, and even if neither of them liked it, Wonpil stowed it under a rug and Dowoon attempted supporting him in any way he could.

That night, Dowoon lay awake with his phone beside him, hands clasped upon his chest as he stared up at the ceiling, pondering.

The echoing sounds were odd at first, like the clinking of glasses or the movements of chains, and then the vibration of the device upon his bed alerted him of a message which tore him out of his thoughts, and he rushed to read it.

_Hey, you awake?_

_ **[02:29]** _

_y_ _up_

** _[02:29]_ **

  
_Im outside your window with _   
_something awesome that you _   
_will lOVE_

_ **[02:30]** _

_Come down!!!_

_ **[02:30]** _

Raising an eyebrow, trying to understand exactly what his best friend was talking about, Dowoon surrendered to his fate and stood, going to his window and pulling it open.

Down below, Wonpil grinned at him, hands wrapped around the handles of a two-seated bicycle, baby pink and nicked in certain places, but its memory strong in the younger's recollection.

"Remember this bad boy?" 


	9. [03 : 53]

It was a bicycle they had bought as a joke three or so years ago, from a flea market in a town near-by. Originally, Barbie stickers had been plastered all over its pastel pink paint, but with much patience and determination, they peeled them off until the bike was bare.

They had chosen one with a double seat so that they could ride together, and settled on calling it their HomieZoomer － Dowoon had to plead Wonpil for its name to not be The BroShip.

It was a struggle at first, balancing two people whilst cycling, but they got the hang of it not much later and soon would zip through the quiet side roads and busy streets, laughing, with adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Their antics had made them even more renowned in their town as the wild best friends, and it made both him and Wonpil guffaw when people stopped to look at them zoom past, constantly ringing the bike's bell.

Perhaps a year had gone by since they had last taken off on a ride, and Dowoon had genuinely forgotten about its existence until that night.

"Let's go on a trip," Wonpil encouraged, a hand motioning for the other to climb down.

Doing as usual, Dowoon got dressed － remembering to put on a jacket, that time － and latched onto the tree, proceeding to make his way along it and to the ground.

Smiling at him, Wonpil rolled the bicycle closer to the younger, signalling for him to get onto the front seat and then settling into the back one himself.

It felt strange being on a bike again, and when Dowoon's grip enclosed around the cold handles, it was as if he had jumped a year back in time. He snapped out of his reverie when a warmth wrapped around his stomach, and he lowered his gaze to find Wonpil's thin arms placed atop his abdomen.

Such a thing made him recall how they would hold onto one another whenever the bike went particularly fast, and an excitement bubbled within him, a subtle blush dotting his cheeks.

Abruptly, Wonpil's right arm shot up and straight ahead, the action being followed by him exclaiming, "Onward, my trusty steed!"

And with a roll of his eyes but a fondness in his grin, Dowoon placed his feet upon the pedals and began pushing.

They garnered speed and the quicker they went, the louder Wonpil laughed. His hot breath against Dowoon's neck contrasted with the brisk air of the night, and the sweet sound of his mirth trickled directly into the latter's ear, making him wish to hear that music forever.

Even when his stinging thighs began to grow tired, Dowoon didn't slow down and instead chose to ignore it for the sake of his friend's enjoyment.

They went through roads neither of them had been to in quite a while, and at certain times Dowoon got lost with looking around them and Wonpil got lost with leaning back, still clutching the younger but with his body angled away, head tilted up until his stretched neck was exposed to the whipping wind. 

Passing along a particularly dimly lit street, Wonpil suddenly gasped, his right hand outstretched once more and pointing at a building they soon went by.

"Isn't that the haunted place?" He asked, wonder in his voice.

Sparing it a glance Dowoon nodded, unwilling to think of the stories he had heard about it amongst his classmates.

"Cool!"

Dowoon hummed and Wonpil said nothing, watching the building shrink from over his shoulder until they rounded a bend, intrigue gleaming in his irises.


	10. [03 : 12]

Dowoon would never admit it, but he was generally easily scared. The classic concept of ghosts and creatures yet to be discovered by humanity, hidden in the black cloak provided by the night, was obviously frightening to him, and even if he didn't want to, he found himself believing in the existence of supernatural beings.

Urban stories of haunted places and areas where supposedly horrendous things had transpired were bountiful as it seemed people enjoyed scaring others, and the building Wonpil and he had biked past the night before was at the centre of one of them.

There were variations of legends related to the building and what it was once for, but almost all included suicide or murder and Dowoon didn't like thinking of either.

When the clock had clicked to ten past three in the morning, a familiar sharp knock startled him enough to drop off the edge of the bed, right leg remaining up on it as he caught himself on his forearms.

Again, another knock, and Dowoon knew that Wonpil was responsible for the pebbles tapping against the glass so incessantly.

Pyjama trousers riled up and wrinkled, chest bare and hair a tangled mess, he slid open the window and looked down, luckily making Wonpil stop throwing another stone before it was too late.

"You should really consider getting that damn pigeon."

Wonpil laughed, nodding in agreement.

"Sorry, Woon," he half-heartedly apologised before a glint appeared in his eyes which Dowoon presumed promised trouble, "Now hurry up and come! We're gonna go on an adventure tonight!"

Flailing his arms about in panic, the younger checked the street up and down for passersby, and then turned to see if any of his family members had awoken at the unruly announcement of the boy below.

Letting his shoulders sag when he heard no movement from within the house, he snapped back towards his friend, fingers strongly gripping the windowsill.

"Could you _please_ lower your volume? I'm dead meat if my parents catch me."

Wonpil rose his hands in mock surrender, bowing his head in apology.

"What's the rush anyways?"

"There's a rush because I say there is a need for one," The brunet brattily stated, petulantly sticking out his tongue, "Bring your butt down here, drummer boy."

Heaving a heavy breath, Dowoon gave in and went to slip on a top and ratty sneakers, subsequently beginning to climb out his window and hop down from the lowest of the branches to the ground.

"Hyper?" He helplessly asked, eyes taking a furtive look at Wonpil.

"Yup."

Sighing in resignation, Dowoon noticed their bicycle resting against the wall of his home and arched an inquisitive brow at the other.

"We're going cycling again?"

"Mhm," Wonpil replied, striding towards it and rolling the bike onto the pavement, silently indicating for the taller to follow.

As the night before, Dowoon sat in front and Wonpil held on from behind, yet the antsy behaviour he portrayed made the former suspect that he had something planned for their little trip, and Dowoon wasn't sure he'd quite like it.

"Off we go, bud! Pedal!"

"Keep your fucking voice down, bloody －"

A car sped past them, seemingly coming from nowhere, and Dowoon jolted in his seat, nearly tipping the bicycle and making his best friend chuckle in amusement.

He snorted before speaking. "That was funny."

And Dowoon bitterly scowled. "Absolutely hilarious."


	11. [03 : 31]

"No."

"Dowoo－"

"Pil, no."

"But －"

The youngest's eyes turned into threatening slits, his arms folding over his chest as he stood before Wonpil and stared him down.

Whilst riding, Wonpil had suggested them doing the same route as their previous trip and Dowoon, not thinking much of it at all and highly distracted by the other's smile, did as told.

He didn't expect, however, that Wonpil would make them stop in front of the very haunted building he had been thinking about and that he'd ask to check it out together.

It was pitch black and ghostly silent, the air still and somewhat heavy, now also filling with tension and fear, both of which Dowoon was the sole cause of.

"It will be fun," Wonpil spoke up again, after a moment of them staring at each other, waiting to see who would crack first.

"You want to jump over this really high fence and break into the abandoned building everybody says is _haunted_, because you think it'll be _fun_?"

Wonpil hesitated, processing his best friend's words with drawn together eyebrows.

"Woon, saying it that way makes me sound irresponsible."

Arms in the air, the taller puffed his cheeks before a reply spewed from his lips, an underlying worry in it as Dowoon knew that if Wonpil didn't change his mind, he would certainly cave.

"It _is_ irresponsible!"

Wonpil rolled his eyes, dropping himself forward and against Dowoon's chest, childishly tugging at his T-shirt.

The latter pushed his chin in whilst looking down at the boy splayed upon him, and Wonpil looked up with an exaggerated pout that made Dowoon's resistance stutter; and then panic brewed because _oh gosh, he was going to give in._

"Come on, man. Let's go on an adventure! Isn't summer vacation meant for these kinds of things?"

"You do realise I'm still half in my pyjamas, right?"

Wonpil let out a grunt, pushing himself off of the other, leaving them with a feeling of sudden coldness on their skin he couldn't quite comprehend.

"You should have dressed more appropriately," He quipped, pointing at his own jacket.

"It's half three in the morning!"

"Time is but an illusion."

A whine slipped from between Dowoon's raspberry lips and Wonpil knew he had won the battle, an enthusiastic grin growing on his own.

"What's even the point of doing this? What if we get hurt or － or there's actually something creepy in there?"

Patting his shoulder, warm palm giving miniscule but soothing rubs to the other, Wonpil leaned close enough for their breaths to mingle and waited, so as to create a theatrical pause.

"First of all, there's nothing in there."

Dowoon could say that was an arguable statement.

"Second of all, if anything happens, we have each other."

Ignoring the thumping of his heart － which Dowoon no longer knew whether was related to his fear, or to the fact that Wonpil had held his face so near to his and _wow_, he looked even more handsome up close － Dowoon gave a dubious hum, eyes flickering away from those of his friend to stare at the ominous building.

He gulped.

It was a really big mess he had gotten himself into, huh?


	12. [03 : 52]

With his bony fingers hooked into the wire fence and the tips of his worn out sneakers doing the same, Wonpil's lithe body steadily and quickly climbed the obstacle of about three metres and down it again, landing swiftly on the other side with a satisfied clap, while Dowoon watched in astonishment.

Yeah, he couldn't do that and look as cool at the same time.

"You can do it, Woonie," Wonpil encouraged, gaze flitting around before settling upon the other's hesitant form.

Sighing, because yet again he was doing dumb things for the sake of his friend, Dowoon attempted imitating what he had witnessed Wonpil do and latched onto the wires, trying to pull himself off of the ground and find his footing.

It only took a few seconds and he understood how to move with ease, nervousness dissipating from his body when he reached the top and eventually came down next to the brunet, relief and pride briefly washing over him.

"That was good, Tarzan," Wonpil joked, playfully nudging the taller with his elbow as he began walking to the side of the building.

Mumbling his thanks, the fleeting glory of having overcome such a small feat being swept beneath a rug of increasing anxiety, Dowoon stuck to the older's shadow, occassionally peering at the dark corners.

"How come we're going from here?" He asked, referring to them now having reached the side of the construction and trailing along the outer wall.

"There's a broken window we can easily enter from somewhere. . . here!"

The abrupt exclamation made Dowoon jump, but it seemed Wonpil didn't notice for he poked his head in through the empty frame where glass had once been, and turned it left and right.

"We're going to need to use the phone's flashlight," He murmured under his breath, head popping back out and hand already reaching into his pocket to fish out the device.

Bright light now on, Wonpil gave it to Dowoon to hold and set his palms upon the windowsill, heaving himself up and over the stones, into the building.

Dowoon stilled in apprehension, scarcely seeing the figure of his best friend in the blackness until he lifted the light higher.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Nothing in life is certain, bro."

He exhaled in defeat, nodding his head and joining the other in the dark.

"Guess you're right."

"When am I not?"

"Often."

For his teasing － but honest － response, he received a shove from Wonpil along with a huff, and he let out a chuckle, feeling more relaxed remembering that he wasn't alone.

"Don't be a dick," Wonpil uttered with a frown, snatching at the phone and waving it around to see what type of surrounding they then found themselves in.

Also taking this as a chance to see what the building's interior was like, Dowoon's eyes followed where the light shone. They saw nothing other than graffiti and alcohol bottles, cardboard boxes and packets of a variety of things tossed by people, plus a couple scattered, padded blankets, torn and with stuffing pouring out.

"Well, let's go deeper in," Wonpil eventually stated, already leading the way.

"But, what if there are gangsters or －"

Dowoon didn't want to admit aloud that he was terrified that there may be supernatural monsters waiting to attack them a second time, so he cut himself short, biting on his bottom lip.

"We're going to be mysterious ninjas of the night, Woon. We're lurking in the darkest shadows and moving in utter silence. They'll never see us coming anyways."

Wonpil's casual words did nothing to quell the younger's growing nerves and Dowoon subtly shortened the space between them, pulse speeding.

"Wonpil, please shut up."

Surprisingly, the boy in question did as told and they fell into a period of silence.

Every whisper of a noise seemed to echo, and the sound of their steps, shoes crunching small pieces of stone or cement and scraping against the floor, felt to be at least quadrupled in volume.

They didn't talk much whilst walking, save for Wonpil's random comments or pointing out certain funny scribbles on the peeling walls, mainly because their words carried and bounced off of every surface, back at them.

Dowoon found himself desperately wanting to reach out and clutch the other's hand, feel his warmth and presence, but all he did was remain glued to his side, elbows occassionally brushing and gaze often drifting to him.

It was pleasant to see Wonpil's wide and curious eyes looking around in immense interest, it almost distracted him completely, but Dowoon couldn't understand why they had to do this of all things for the older to have fun.

Breaking into a collapsing and possibly-inhabited-by-spirits building at almost four in the morning was surely ludicrous, and despite that, there they were, going up winding stairs and along numerous halls, kicking doorways closed off by planks of wood down, only to find vacant rooms.

There wasn't much to ogle at. Dowoon would admit it looked like any other regular building, but most of the windows were covered and therefore, inside was left with no light with which to see, other than that of Wonpil's phone.

Of course, as they ascended another flight of stairs － Dowoon was beginning to wonder exactly how many there were － Wonpil stumbled and in the rush to catch him, Dowoon's hand knocked the device out of his grasp.

The cracking sounds of the phone falling down the steps was almost like a taunt, as the two stared in its general direction until the flashlight went off, leaving them frozen in their positions of a few seconds before the disaster.

"Well. . . shit."

Dowoon's head swam with worry and questions, trepidation clutching his mind and coming up with various scenarios, in all of which they died.

"W-We're going to die," He practically whimpered, voicing his decisive thought as his eyes shot off at every angle in search of vision.

"Calm down, Woon. I'm sure we can feel our way out of here."

"How _the hell_ do you want to do that?"

The younger's voice had risen in pitch, and just the same, so had his grip on Wonpil's forearm fastened.

A sense of guilt topped with mild concern brewed within Wonpil, who could clearly hear the fear in his friend's words and the rapid breathing that divided them.

"We can wait for the sun to rise and then see our way out better."

He shifted on his feet and tentatively lifted one until it settled on the next step.

"There won't be much sunlight coming in, but it'll help a lot, I'm sure."

Nodding dumbly, Dowoon turned his back on wherever the phone had dropped to and began slowly making his way up the stairs, as Wonpil did.

Once they reached the top, they both rapidly blinked, desperately trying to see where they were as their pupils automatically dilated, so as to catch any light in the sheer blackness.

The musty smell of the place suddenly felt thicker than before, somehow coating Dowoon's lungs and making his mind hazy.

"Let's sit for now. It's pointless to move around if we don't know where we're going."

Until then, Dowoon hadn't realised that he had been still clutching onto the other's arm, probably tight enough to leave bruises, and upon the realisation, he unclasped his fingers and started to slip them away, bashful.

Wonpil's hand stopped him, setting atop his with its warmth, and Dowoon rose his blind eyes to where Wonpil's would be.

"It's fine," The older whispered comfortingly, "You can hold onto me as much as you need to."

A blush dusted Dowoon's supple cheeks and it was only during that moment that he was grateful for the darkness they were trapped in.

He hummed and Wonpil's lips faintly rose, even if it was an action which went unnoticed. As the taller's palms set around his arm again, apprehensive and quaking, Wonpil asked himself how he could have been selfish and stupid enough so as to get them stuck in such a predicament.


	13. [04 : 39]

Time didn't seem like it was passing. Dowoon counted to sixty seconds, held out a finger, and then did it again, repeating his method of calculating the minutes which went by until a distant sound of something shifting upon the ground made him screech and hook himself around Wonpil's befuddled self.

"Chill, dude. It was probably a rat or whatever."

The younger gave no indication of him letting go and Wonpil sighed, but the action held no irritation in its weight; instead, it was one of tiredness and sympathy.

Moments ticked away and Dowoon's heartbeat steadied again, his fingers, however, remaining knotted in his friend's jacket. He didn't want to part with the comfort the other radiated nor with the feeling of holding him － not when he had such a good excuse to do so.

Perhaps it was sneaky of him, but Dowoon took the opportunity to snuggle into Wonpil's side, going against that rational part of him which told him he should be keeping his distance. What if they never left the building, though? What if it wasn't a rat that they heard before? What if they died and Dowoon never confessed how he felt for his best friend? That had always been his plan, taking his shameful emotions with him to his eternal sleep, but now that the concept appeared close to realisation, could he really accept it? It crossed his mind that he was being melodramatic, but really, he couldn't not be.

He tentatively rested the side of his head upon Wonpil's chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat drumming into his ear and convincing his own to match their pace.

Dowoon briefly mused that their hearts had become one, but such a sappy thought left a sour aftertaste when he remembered the current state they were in.

Maybe he was looking for an excuse to finally be open about what he felt, or maybe a part of him truly believed they were going to remain there forever, but Dowoon's mind quickly filled with the idea of confessing to his best friend right then.

What could he even say? How would he tell him he's had feelings for him for years? At such a big secret being revealed, would Wonpil be upset that he kept it from him or upset he had such a thing to keep hidden in the first place? Wonpil was kind, surely he would understand even if he didn't return Dowoon's sentiments, right?

Dowoon didn't want to die without ever speaking the truth. He also didn't want to die before he achieved a long list of goals, but that couldn't be changed should they meet their end that night. And with a newly found courage which travelled through his veins, he let out a breath and tensed the muscles of his jaw, willing his voice to be steady.

"Wonpil, I need to tell you a secret."

The statement hung in the space around them, and for a second Dowoon thought Wonpil already knew what he wanted to say.

"A secret?" The older asked after a long pause, a hand rising to card through Dowoon's lush hair.

Said boy felt a heat spread along his skin at the gentle action of his friend, his scalp tingling, and he did his utmost to not lean into the inviting touch.

He hummed, letting his eyes flutter closed and trying to focus on keeping his breathing even.

"The feelings I have for you aren't normal."

Wonpil's movements came to a stop, and Dowoon felt the shift of the other's head as he lowered his chin to look down despite the fact that neither of them could see.

It was probably for the best that they couldn't, Dowoon decided.

"What do you mean by that, Woon?"

"I mean that I don't see you as just a best friend. I like you the way my mum likes my dad, and it's been like this for some years, but I didn't want to say it."

He shuddered an inhale, his eyelids wrinkling as he squeezed them shut even tighter.

"If we're going to die tonight, I want you to know that I － that I _really_ like you, Wonpil. It doesn't matter that you're a guy, I fell for you because of who you are. Please, don't be upset with me."

A silence washed over them and none dared to even twitch a finger, transforming into statues resting against a wall.

"Are you being serious right now or is this a joke because I got us stuck in this shithole?"

Dowoon didn't want to reply, he couldn't. Blood was throbbing too forcibly in his ears, so loud he could hardly hear anything else other than his own frantic thoughts.

"Dowoon?"

He could say it was a joke, a prank. He was only pulling his leg, that's all. As if he could ever fall in love with him, gosh, how funny. And yet, he couldn't make the lie fall from his lips. His mouth hung open, words being started but left unfinished, and then he scrunched his nose and settled on being honest.

"I'm serious."

There was another break in their conversation, and Wonpil's hand resumed its caressing.

"That's good then. I appreciate you telling me. It must have been hard, yeah?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, light and warm, almost embracing the younger's trembling heart.

Dowoon merely nodded once in response and Wonpil exhaled from his mouth, breath fanning over the former's hair and ear, tickling him slightly.

"If we're being honest, then I can't say that I've felt the same way about you for as long and I can't say I seriously considered us as anything more than the best of bros, either."

His stomach churned, his throat closed up.

"I should also add that I've never considered going out with a guy but, you know, life's wack sometimes."

Dowoon's eyebrows furrowed, his lagging brain attempting to decipher exactly what his friend was insinuating.

Wonpil shifted his legs upon which the younger had set his own left one, still coiled around the other's body and gripping him securely until he would be forced to let go.

"You've always been a huge part of my life, Woon. I don't know where I would be without you, and hell knows you would be in a better place than you are now without me."

"It's not your fault."

The muffled words made a flutter of fondness erupt in the brunet's ribcage, a smile on his lips he couldn't fully suppress.

Neither of the two were certain whether they were referring to the actual location they found themselves at or to a deeper meaning, yet Dowoon considered his reply valid for both.

"You're always too kind to me," Wonpil chuckled, laughter echoing along the hallway, "but, I mean, you and I are close. Super close. You know more about me than anyone, and I think that goes for the both of us. You sacrifice a lot for me and I could never understand why you would go to such extremes. I ask myself how I'm fortunate enough to have you, most of the time."

He huffed, aware that he was beating around the bush with giving a direct answer, but unaware that his words were already enough to make Dowoon's insides twist with happiness. After all, the only thing he wanted was to be the best friend he could be to the boy he loved, and hearing what Wonpil said was like a confirmation of his success.

"What I'm trying to say is that there have been moments in which I wondered what it would be like if you were a girl. Would I have fallen for you already?" He let out a sound akin to a laugh, shaking his head, "I mean, probably." Wonpil paused, then genuinely mulling over the idea. "Yeah. . . Yeah, you would be the best girlfriend ever, and you want to know something? I think it would fucking suck to let such a partner get away just because they're not of a certain gender."

Dowoon's eyes snapped open and his torso lurched upright, palms pressing onto the ground, dirt and sharp fragments nearly cutting into his skin.

"Wha-What does that mean?"

"If you want to date, I won't say no."

The younger blinked, incredulous.

"But you like girls."

Wonpil gave a shrug, "Eh, not particularly interested in them, though."

"How can that be?"

"Dunno, but it's not like they ever turn me on or anything. I'm not into them like that."

"Then. . . are you gay?"

"Dicks don't turn me on either, bud."

Amidst his bafflement, the younger chuckled, disbelief trinkling into the sound so misplaced. Content to hear the other's giggle though, Wonpil grinned, warmth burrowing into his chest.

"So, what's next?" He questioned, folding his legs in, "Want to be boyfriends?"

Dowoon flushed, heart stuttering at the last word Wonpil said so cheerily, as if it weren't the pinnacle of the younger's dreams.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

A definite nod and then an exaggerated sigh, Wonpil rested against the stained wall, head cupped by his palms.

"From besties to boyfies. I'm kind of glad we got stuck here tonight, seeing as how you would have never told me anything if we didn't."

Dowoon hummed, feeling his way back to the other's side and letting himself droop onto his chest until Wonpil sprang off the musty bricks.

"Hold up. Does this mean that when you used to push kids off your seat, it was because you already had a thing for me?"

"I －"

"Wait wait, hold up. Does this mean that when you got your foot jammed in that vending machine because you wanted to get my snacks, it was because you liked me?"

Once again, Dowoon wanted to disappear, embarrassed.

". . . That's fucking cute."

Alright, maybe he shouldn't disappear after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pan/Bi-Ace Wonpil because representation
> 
> Quite frankly this story absolutely sucks in various and numerous aspects, but im not surprised it turned out this way. Im disappointed with it but i wont unpublish it i think. Im just going to move on and see what happens
> 
> Gonna end this story here because no, but thanks for reading so far! 
> 
> Please vote, comment and share so others can suffer at the hand of my awful writing!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks a lot for reading!


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